Moonlit Justice
by SilentSpeaker13
Summary: "Never again would Bakura touch Yuugi"- Yami's out for some revenge.  Sequel to As the Horror Reigns, but could pretty much be read on its own.  Rated for violence.  R/R and enjoy!


**AN: This is a sequel to _As the Horror Reigns_, but could really be read on its own. Rated for violence, yadda yadda. I edited minor things about this so many times since I haven't had internet for over a week now...hate so much. I actually didn't think I could find an internet connection worse than the one in my home, but I did at the public library and its the only internet I have right now within a fifteen minute driving distance.**

**So anyway enough of my grumbling. I hope you read and enjoy, and reviewing is always appreciated too. Thanks for reading! Oh and btw I don't own Yu Gi Oh or its characters (shocker, I know)**

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><p>Yami no Yuugi, the Nameless Pharaoh, the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, had tried so hard to keep others safe. He had been in countless duels, played endless Shadow Games, he had even sealed his own soul inside the Millennium Puzzle and suffered its isolation for thousands of years for the sake of those around him. Throughout it all the once Pharaoh had carried out justice with a regal grace befitting his status; he had prided himself on the glory, the beauty and honor of his judgments and their punishments. But now it had come to this.<p>

There was no grace to be had tonight. No beauty. Tonight was for swift justice and sweet vengeance.

Tonight would be an explicit, bloody display of his carnal nature. Tonight he would be thankful that his aibou slept deep within his soul room, unawares.

Blood stained the grass and dirt below them, his clothes, his hair; it was etched in him, crimson stains trapped in the crevices and folds of skin. His hands were coated with it, warm and sticky. The stench of iron seemed to overpower the air around them.

In the bright hours of the day this spot was a scene of joyful serenity. But this was nighttime, and now it would be the place of shadowed nightmares.

Blood. Dirt. Sweat. Death.

A dark, raspy chuckle broke his reverie. The former Pharaoh was bent over, hands on his knees, covered in grime and blood and sweat, panting from adrenaline and exertion. Several feet away lay the body of Ryou Bakura, covered in just as much dirt and much more blood than Yami no Yuugi. The garish yellow light above served him with greater evidence of his violence; it flickered from the footbridge overhead, a taunting reminder of the evil deeds being committed below.

Even bloodied and broken, with one eye swollen shut, Yami no Yuugi could see the devious smirk on the other's face as he defiantly rolled from his side onto his back.

"I feel so honored that you dirtied your hands just for me Pharaoh," Yami no Bakura's voice drawled out hoarsely, oozing sarcasm.

"Be quiet." He spat the words out venomously, his mind and eloquence clouded with abject hatred. Clouded with blood.

"What, no pretty speeches today Pharaoh? No Shadow Games? How unlike you. It's good to know that you sink just as low as the rest of us. But we already knew that already, didn't we?"

"I said, shut your mouth Bakura!" More growl than words. Before he knew it Bakura was once again in his tight grip, lifted from the dirt by his shirt. Enraged, Yami no Yuugi slammed the once pure haired boy's head against the rough bark of a large tree.

Bakura's white hair was tainted with more debris. Moonlight and lamppost revealed a sloppy trickle of blood as it ran down the grooves of the tree's trunk. The former Pharaoh's bared his teeth like a predator. His hunger, his thirst for the kill would not be quelled. The fingers wrapped in Bakura's shirt itched to forever tear the boy limb from limb. Guttural growls formed at the back of his throat and exited his mouth, yet still the smirk on Bakura's face lingered; his one good eye remained half-lidded condescendingly.

The demonic yami's arms remained limp at his side. He offered no struggle, no fight, other than his patronizing look. He had put up minimal resistance from the beginning. As though he were better, as though he were stronger. It was turning the dark haired yami's hatred into a crazed frenzy.

"Tell me Pharaoh, where's that little hikari of yours right now? Is he watching?" Bakura looked over the other yami's back and then up, not into, but through his attacker's eyes, as if to see the smaller Yuugi lurking behind them. The interest was sickeningly genuine. Too genuine.

Something raw formed in the stomach of Yuugi Mutou's darker half.

"Do not dare speak of him Bakura," the warning was shouted, unbridled and deadly. The desire to choke the life out of Bakura was flooding his mind. All he saw in those stoic brown eyes was Yuugi's victimization. Murderous intent was barely restrained in him; the memory of Yuugi's terror pulled at him. Desire to see blood, to keep Yuugi safe; the need to keep the innocence of his body and soul intact. His hikari's pure soul held him back and pushed him to act; his control was slowly slipping.

Bakura spoke tauntingly, mockingly. "Such a sweet, innocent, _stupid_ little hikari isn't he? He's so much more fun than you though, maybe you should let Yuugi out to play Pharaoh." The words were alternately spat and purred, every enunciation chosen to make his meaning as vile as possible. "We have some unfinished business, _Yuugi_ and I."

With a roar Bakura was thrown, landing face down onto the unforgiving landscape of dirt and stones. Before the malignant yami could react the King of Games was on top of him. One punch slammed into Bakura's cheek, then another, then another. More blood was spilt; it soaked into the ground and stained the grass. A streak of maroon was carried by the creek beside them.

"Don't say his name, don't say his name!" Yami no Yuugi's voice cracked as he raged. He stopped. He picked up Bakura by the collar only to slam him down again, and again, and again. A disgusting wet sound echoed through the stillness of the night. Droplets of blood flew through the air. Noise and blood, incessant, unceasing. How long did it go on? The Pharaoh lost track of blows, of time. His mind was a haze of blood; a small, cruel smile began to grow on his face.

Panting, shaking, he stopped. Time resumed.

Bakura lay still. Several moments passed. Yami no Yuugi's smile faded. A pool of dread began to fill the shaking yami's stomach. Had he tainted Yuugi's body with death, with murder? He had already stained his precious aibou's soul with such violence. Heart constricted with fear, Yuugi's yami hurriedly pushed his hands deep into the shallow creek bed. The cool water ran over his hands. Bakura's blood was washed away only to expose scraped skin and bruised knuckles. Evidence of the darkness inside. The former Pharaoh squeezed his eyes shut, stripped of stalwart nobility and filled with disgust and fright. What had he done?

What had he done?

"I wonder what Yuugi will say," a bodiless voice croaked his own question mockingly. "You could just kill me now I guess, but no, our beloved Pharaoh would never do that, would he? Not even after I almost killed his defenseless little host. How pathetic."

Guilt and fear fled Yami no Yuugi's soul, replaced by rage and humiliation. He pulled Bakura's limp body up from the ground. A large sharpened stone lay just to his left; Yami no Yuugi eyed it decidedly. The body in hand was gripped, readied to be slammed down and end the fight for good.

Never again would Bakura touch Yuugi, never again would he have to see Yuugi suffer, never again would he be forced to witness the little hikari's memories through horrible nightmares. No, he would end this here and now. He would block the images from Yuugi's mind, never let the other one know what dark deeds had been carried out in his body. Yami no Yuugi held their bodies at the same height, Bakura's seated and his kneeling, and poised himself to make the killing blow. This was it.

"Remember who else you kill Pharaoh." Foul words from a foul tongue; a man who knew he had the upper hand.

Yami no Yuugi wanted to curse. He bit his tongue. He couldn't give Bakura the satisfaction and suffer another blow to his pride. The bastard king always had a plan. Bakura had not fought back, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring had known all along what cards to pull and when. He was content to let Yami no Yuugi beat him to decimation as long as he could taunt the Pharaoh with the knowledge that the sentence he wished to deliver also meant the death of Ryou Bakura.

Horror filled him at the realization.

He could never just kill Bakura. He couldn't kill Bakura; Yuugi remained prey for this monster. Everything was unraveling.

"He's watching." Yuugi was still fast asleep, any inclination to awaken forced down by the Pharaoh's spirit. But of course, Bakura would let or force his hikari to watch as Yuugi Mutou's yami mercilessly beat him. A witness to Yami's violence.

"He's frightened. He thinks you're going to kill me, he can see it in your eyes. I think he actually wishes your would a little," Bakura snorted. "But then he always was weak, wasn't he?"

Conflict was still seizing hold of Yami no Yuugi's soul.

He stared at the Millennium Ring, surrounded by a circle of blood, evidence of his early attempt to remove the cursed object. There was no way to separate the two Bakuras without destroying Ryou's body.

And yet, his fingers itched for blood, for vengeance.

Thoughts of pain and violence flooded his mind, of Bakura, of Yuugi, of Ryou, Yuugi's friends...all of them were tainted by violence, malevolence brought on by this one evil entity.

Aibou, his precious aibou had nearly been killed, nearly been...destroyed in unspeakable ways.

Red clouded his vision; he could see nothing, hear nothing, only feel his overwhelming rage.

He would do it. This would end now.

His muscles tensed. He was prepared to slam that white head against gray stone, ready to crack that arrogant skull and spill its contents across the ground. Mouth opened to yell, he reared back and started forward. This was it. Soon it would all be over. In a few seconds the hate and destruction that threatened his hikari would be splattered on the ground.

Yami no Bakura would be no more.

A flash of light scorched the heavy darkness. For a split second Yami no Yuugi saw Bakura's good eye widen, pupil constricted in pain and fear, then blacken. Yami no Yuugi stopped himself only centimeters from the pointed edge of the rock. Bakura's body limp was in his hands. He released his hold on the body and let it drop to the ground. It landed like a hapless rag doll, the weapon of its demise resting next to an ear, so close there was not even a hair's breadth between the stone and skin.

Blond bangs shook as the yami spirit scrambled back and to his feet. He stared at his hands. The knuckles were bruised, the palms and backs covered again in his own blood and Bakura's. They were scratched and torn and raw. Rage subsided, fear grew. He had almost just killed Ryou, not Yami no Bakura, not the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, but Ryou Bakura.

The darkness his hikari tamed had nearly consumed him again.

Fear and self-loathing were met with hatred and disgust.

Bakura had forced the switch at the last possible moment. The sly Thief King had played to win in a desperate fashion. If the switch stopped Yami no Yuugi from killing his host's body he lived; if Bakura was killed he would find a new host while it caused a lifetime of suffering for the former Pharaoh, for his own guilt and the pain and fear it would bring his hikari. Anguish would consume his precious and innocent hikari, who had remained blissfully asleep, unaware of the carnage caused by his very hands.

The former Pharaoh bent down to pick up the half-dead body of Ryou Bakura. Repulsion rippled through his being; he wished desperately to leave his body there, to let the Ring's spirit suffer, but he couldn't...a fact Yami no Bakura knew.

He was going to carry the body of someone he wanted to kill, someone he'd been about to kill, to the hospital for the sake of his hikari. For both hikaris.

_Sticky warm fabric clung to his skin. _

He was saving a body that threatened Yuugi's life, his innocence.

_Red streaked and flowed down the creek bed._

Ryou's skin came in contact with his as he moved; he shuddered. It was vile.

_Wet clumps of dry dirt marred albescent hair._

The next time he could only hope both hikaris would stay asleep.

_Fingers dug in, basking in the delicious vulnerability of torn flesh._

The next time Yuugi was threatened he wouldn't hold back.

_His heart beat faster._


End file.
